


Smarter, Not Harder

by Primarina (PastelBrachypelma)



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Making Up, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, there should be a warning for fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 05:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13873929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBrachypelma/pseuds/Primarina
Summary: I see a lot of fics about Dan and Arin fighting, but they seem pretty unrealistic to me.





	Smarter, Not Harder

After twenty minutes, Dan didn’t want to be angry anymore.

Arin had gotten into a snit during the recording session, and had snapped at Dan. Usually, Dan wasn’t one to get angry easily, but he felt the rage was unjustified, and that Arin wasn’t getting to heart of whatever the real problem was, so he had snapped back. They’d ended up at an uncomfortable distance away from each other, farther than the contrived distance between them for videos, and much farther than the way they would sit on particularly hot days.

Arin had shut himself away in his office as soon as they finished recording, and Dan thought that the episode might have to be scrapped anyway, seeing as the commentary was stilted, with too many long periods of silence between speaking.

Dan knocked hesitantly on Arin’s door, waiting to be called inside before he cautiously entered. “Hey…Arin?” He closed the door behind him, body tense. He wasn’t angry, not anymore, and though he’d felt hurt in the moment, he sensed that there was a much bigger underlying problem. 

Arin tensed visibly, but then looked up at Dan, sighing. “Hey, Dan.” He swiveled in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that.”

Dan let out a breath and felt the tension leak out of his shoulders. “I forgive you, man.” He glanced questioningly towards the couch, wordlessly asking if he could sit. Arin nodded, and the older man gratefully folded himself into the surprisingly comfy sofa. “But what was that really about? Usually, I’ve only seen that rage directed at video games.”

Arin sighed, obviously ashamed. “It’s…really stupid.” He glanced shyly at Dan from between strands of his hair. “I don’t want you to get mad again.”

Dan shrugged. “If it helps, I was mostly just fed up with your tone, and I was angry you weren’t telling me what was really up.” He reached down to retie his shoelace. “I’m too old for bullshit, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Arin said, and he sounded more relieved. “Okay, um…” His chair squeaked as he rotated it. Then, he sat up, and his eyes were hard and serious, which always made Dan sit up straighter and listen. “Why didn’t you ever come back as a frequent guest on Steam Train and Grumpcade?”

Dan blinked, momentarily nonplussed. Steam Train and Grumpcade had long since faded into obscurity. Both were kind of Ross’ brainchildren, so with the Australian busy with Gameoverse and Barry, Ross’ right-hand man when it came to both series, off pursuing his own stuff and no longer a Game Grumps employee, the shows were nothing more than a distant memory some fans were still valiantly hoping would permanently return.

Had Arin been holding onto this for that long?

“And I know,” Arin went on upon seeing Dan had nothing to say yet, “I know what you told me at the time, and what you went through, and all that shit, but…why, after all that was fixed, didn’t you come back? If you had, both series would’ve gained traction and garnered views.” Because fans love you, he implied but didn’t say.

It didn’t really need saying at this point.

Dan took a deep breath. He didn’t really like anyone using his popularity for leverage, Arin included. “It’s not like I was doing it out of spite,” he said with a bit more venom than he’d intended to use. He hugged her knees to his chest and started again. “As you know, the first two years of Game Grumps were really hard for me. For most of 2013 and some of 2014, I was working an ordinary 9-5 job, Monday through Friday, desperately trying to afford my rent-split with Barry and medical bills that were beginning to pile up, not to mention that Ninja Sex Party was in the red.” He swallowed, closing his eyes. “I was…also very sick, at that time, as you no doubt remember. So I could barely even work enough to keep my job at Maker, never mind Grumps. I did my best to hide that shit from the fans, because I needed them to like me enough so I wouldn’t be responsible for Game Grumps’ failure, but…”

“Dan,” Arin said softly, leaning forward enough to place a hand on his knee. His eyes were compassionate and sad, clearly apologetic.

Dan offered a watery smile, lacing his fingers through Arin’s, feeling the warmth and sweat of the other man’s palm against his own clammy skin. “Well…you know. I was sick, and Starbomb was a lot to handle. I was throwing myself against a wall trying to make everyone happy. I was doing Grumps and Steam Train and Guild Grumps and Starbomb and NSP, and it was…just too much.” He squeezed Arin’s hand. “When I left Guild Grumps, it was because I had to. I hadn’t slept for three days, had barely eaten enough to keep myself going…I was tired. I needed the distance.” Dan rubbed his eyes. “I needed rest!”

Arin sat back, letting his hand fall off Dan’s knee. “I know, man. I’m so sorry…just forget I said anything.” He looked away, hiding his facial expression from Dan.

Dan unfolded himself, chasing Arin by leaning forward and resting a hand on his knee. “Arin,” he said sternly, “if this has been bothering you for this long, then I may as well tell you everything. All right? It’s fine. I don’t mind talking about it. You deserve to know.”

Arin let out a gust of air, turning back towards Dan. There was still sorrow and uncertainty dancing in his eyes, and he looked like he was about to cry. Dan smiled reassuringly, sitting back and patting the space beside him. After a moment’s hesitation, Arin sat beside him, curling his legs up under him as he turned to face Dan. Dan mirrored the posture, cradling his head on his palm.

“Anyway,” Dan went on, “I pulled back from everything because I needed to rest. As I began to feel better, I noticed that I could fill my new free time with other opportunities. I could hang out with friends or take myself on dates. As Ninja Sex Party became more successful, new recording opportunities for albums and recording opened up, and I penciled those into my free time. I went back to therapy. I got whatever medical procedures I needed to have done. And I didn’t think about coming back because Ross didn’t need me. Steam Train and Grumpcade were fine without me, and I was at peace with that. I was busy doing other shit, and then I could focus on Grumps, where you needed me to be at the top of my game.” He reached over to jokingly poke Arin in the arm, making the younger man giggle. “So, yeah, that’s why.”

Arin nodded. “Yeah, that’s fair.” He looked away, fiddling with the loose drawstring of his sweatpants. “Thanks for telling me.” He seemed to be looking for words, so Dan waited patiently, hiding a yawn behind his hand. The peaceful aura of Arin’s office was having a somnolent effect.

After what seemed like hours, Arin spoke, and Dan shook himself awake, settling in to listening to Arin’s side of the story. “I guess…I guess I put a lot of pressure on myself to work hard. I want to do as much work as possible, because it makes me feel…alive, I guess? Worth something. I’m not good at…writing song lyrics…”

“Arin…” Dan gently reached out to touch his friend’s shoulder, but Arin shook him off, barreling forward.

“And I’m not good at…well, anything! I don’t animate because I don’t have time anymore, but what do I do instead? Scream at video games, and generally be piss—poor at them.” Arin sniffled, ducking his head. “I just…I wanted to throw myself into my work, because I felt like if I could produce content somehow, then I’d feel more justified for being exhausted, but all it did…” He was crying now, and Dan was inching closer slowly, so as not to scare him. “It made me burn out, too. I had a fucking panic attack, and then I got depression, and…” 

He started sobbing right as Dan embraced him, pulling him forward into his shoulder. Arin returned the hug, powerless to do anything but cry as Dan soothed him, holding him, telling him it was going to be okay, and pulling Arin gradually closer against him. At least, Arin calmed down, and the two unfolded themselves from each other enough to breathe, but still touching. Arin’s head was lying on Dan’s arm, one of Dan’s legs spread out, touching his thigh.

“You turned out to be right,” Arin said quietly.

“About what?” Dan asked, gently tucking a damp strand of hair behind Arin’s ear. It was tender, like something Suzy might do, and it warmed Arin to the core that here was Dan Avidan, who once upon a time balked at even the slightest inappropriate joke, sitting within intimate distance, touching him so sweetly.

“Working too hard.” Arin snorted. “I should’ve done what you did. Maybe I wouldn’t have burned out.”  
Dan shrugged. “We all have our limits. I envy yours, Big Cat.”

Arin’s eyes widened. “You do?! Why?!”

Dan chuckled. “Because you do everything! You have this seemingly endless supply of energy that you can devote to side projects, to streams, even to Grumps!” He smiled tenderly at Arin. “You’re impressive, baby girl. I’m so proud of you.”

Arin looked up shyly. “…seriously?”

Dan nodded. “Seriously.”

Arin nuzzled into Dan’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, too. You never let stuff get to you. That you sacrificed everything for Ninja Sex Party and that you did everything you could for me…” He closed his eyes in contentment. “I’m lucky you’re my friend.”

“I’m lucky you’re my friend, too. I owe a lot of my success to you,” Dan murmured quietly.

Arin hummed. “Think we can stay like this a little while longer?”

“I think I can pencil you in.”

Arin grumbled, poking Dan in the ribs. The resulting comically angry face just made him burst out laughing, Dan not far behind.

**Author's Note:**

> As a Capricorn, I really identify with Arin. I throw myself into work to justify wanting to relax or being exhausted, but then I get close to a burnout. I'm pretty close to one right now, actually. 
> 
> I don't have a Dan to hug me and make it better, though, sadly.


End file.
